The Dreams of the Heart 2 : Albus Dumbledore
by JadeLMSkywalker
Summary: This is a Sequel to The Dreams of the Heart. Only as you can tell it is told from Albus Dumbledore’s point of view. This is a one shot and is actually in response to your reviews. A lot of you have asked that I write a sequel to The Dreams of the Heart,


Title: The Dreams of the Heart: Albus Dumbledore

Author: Jade L. M. Skywalker

Beta Reader: Un-Beta-ed

Release Times: One time shot

Category: Angst/Romance/General.

Spoilers: Books 1-5

Warnings: Possible OC: Out Of Character, Character Death

Rating: PG

Summary: This is a Sequel to The Dreams of the Heart. Only as you can tell it is told from Albus Dumbledore's point of view.

A/N: This is a one shot and is actually in response to your reviews. A lot of you have asked that I write a sequel to The Dreams of the Heart, so as I started to think about what to write, this had written itself. And though it didn't starts as a Two in the morning thing, it was a before ODE's and Linear Alg kind of thing, it did end up being one. Tell me what you think, should I do another one, should I leave it alone, what? It's all up to you (the reviewer) as to what I will attempt to do. No promises, but I will do my best. So don't forget to review. Thanks for reading and for reviewing.

Disclaimer: Alas I own nothing, I am just borrowing these wonderful toys for this story and I hereby promise to put my toys away when I am finished. Therefore these wonderful toys belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Publishing and Warner Brothers Inc. In general, anything you recognize is not mine.

The Dreams of the Heart: Albus Dumbledore

It is said, is known to be, common knowledge that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in over three centuries. Until almost eighteen years ago, this knowledge was true. Even in his own humble opinion he knew this to be true, though he would never boast about it. He still knew it and accepted it without argument. Now however, the title belongs to another. The title belongs to a young man who, even now, refuses to believe the power he contains. When he is told this he blushes deeply, shyly turning his powerful green eyes away, and then calmly states, "I'm nothing of importance," and then he quickly tries to divert the conversation, and attention elsewhere.

It has been his pleasure to be able to watch this remarkable young man grow. Though he is vastly different then when he first stepped foot within these hallowed halls, seven short years ago, he is nearly the same as well. Even though he has faced many horrors within his short life, though he was forced to grow up long before he should have, he has some how maintained his childlike innocence and ability to see the world around him with new eyes. Even though his life has caused him much pain, he is still able to look at new people and see the good they possess, and (minus a select few) to overlook their problems. He has a sense of humor that surpasses either the Weasley twins, or the Marauders, and yet at the same time just as, if not more so, compassionate as his late mother. Not a simple feat, but true non-the-less.

Albus sits back in his chair with a weary sigh. His aged mind going over memories of years past and yet he feels as though they were just yesterday. He can remember his own broken heart as he watched this young man, one Harry James Potter, leave his office near the end of his fifth year. He remembers the justified anger Harry had felt and even now a year and a half later he can still feel his own sense of loss. Not for the loss of Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather, but for the loss of all affection Harry had held towards himself until he placed the heaviest of burdens on Harry's shoulders, on his heart. He had been crushed with heartbreak when Harry hadn't come to the End of the Year Feast, but he knew it was his own fault and he also knew he had just lost the closest thing to a grandson he has ever had.

It had started out to be the hardest summer he had ever suffered through, though he knows what he suffered pales in comparison to what Harry was forced to suffer, alone. To his surprise he arrived in his office on the morning of the thirty-first of July to find someone waiting for him. A snowy white owl he would know anywhere, Hedwig, was waiting for him and more importantly she had a letter for him, from Harry. A letter that can still easily be located in the top drawer of his nightstand, a letter that brought hope to his heart and still does to this very day.

Of all the things he had expected from the letter, (which before he had opened it, found he was glad that underage wizards couldn't use magic out of school. He was relieved because therefore the underage rule did not allow Harry the chance to send him a Howler). He never dared to dream or to hope to not only find Harry asking forgiveness for his, Harry's, destructive tempter, (something even at the time Harry had destroyed them. Always and still does) but granting him, Albus Dumbledore, forgiveness as well. The letter then went on to cement not only his heart but his hope for the future, for all their future, as Harry all but begged for help in learning how to defeat Voldemort.

And so with this seemingly simple letter, began the rebuilding of their relationship. Only to have it grow beyond his wildest dreams. The two of them talked for nearly two days straight, being more open and honest with each other then they have ever been, either with each other or anyone else. From that day forth the two of them have trained and learned from the other. It hasn't been easy, and a lot of the time required a check up with Madam Pomfrey, (okay most of the time, (alright, already, all of the time)) and a few over night stays in her care.

Though I know he wanted to push his friends away, to protect them from what he perceived as the greatest danger, himself. I would not allow this and I sent letters to both Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger explaining that their young friend would do anything in his power to push them away. I explained that if they wished to remain his friends they would have to put their foot down and force him to see it their way. I could not tell them of the Prophecy (it wasn't mine to tell), but I knew they needed help in understanding just what had been going through their friend's mind.

I had feared Mr. Weasley wouldn't pursue this fight, that he would walk away from Harry during a time that Harry needed him so. I was so pleased to learn I was wrong. Ms. Granger on the other hand, I never had any doubt about. I have seen the love she carries in her eyes and heart for Harry. A love so pure and powerful I have never seen before. I knew she would walk to the ends of the world for him, even if it meant just being his friend. I know she wants more, she dreams of having more. One look at them and even a blind man can see this, even Mr. Weasley finally seen this.

Harry however, did not. Or at least I didn't think so.

When these three amazing people reached seventh year, Harry Potter was unanimously named Head-Boy, just as Hermione Granger was named Head-Girl. I was prouder then I have ever been in my life. For I may have the final choice in who is Prefects or not, I cannot chose who is Head-Boy/Girl, this decision is made by the Professors and my vote is but one of many.

It was, an awe inspiring sight to see the two of them walk into the Great Hall on September first; respect was freely given to them. Something even Harry's parents never had all of. Though some of the Slytherin's were against it, they knew better then to be rude to them. Ever since then, the halls of Hogwarts have been patrolled regularly, honestly, and humorously. I have yet to hear one complaint about either one of the two. They work so well together (even when they are apart), they never question what the other has said or done. If points were taken off, they talked about it afterwards (and in private, never in front of the students) and I have never seen such cooperation between the sexes as I see with them. The saying 'meant to be' comes to mind every time I see them together.

The two of them share the responsibilities evenly, equally, and do what they can to lighten the load of the other one, never caring about their own load as long as they can help the other. Harry will take Hermione's rounds when she feels the absolute need to study all night for a test or when he forces her to take a night off and sleep. Sometimes it just happens, sometimes it's planed. Though the cuter ones to see are the ones that just happen, I witnessed this once, and I still smile at the blush Ms. Granger radiated, but not only that but true love and gratitude.

_Flashback_

_Albus quietly steps into the library, knowing he will be able to find his Head-Girl and Boy here. He learns he was right, as his eyes fall upon the pair working painstakingly over a pile of books. He is about to make himself known when he pauses in his step seeing Harry look up from his book and over at the woman across from him. A look Albus knows he has never seen crosses the young man's face. _

_Albus is curious as to what brought this look, turns to see what Harry is looking at, only to find himself amused at the sight before him. Hermione 'there's always time to study' Granger has one arm on the table, bent at the elbow, with her head resting on her hand, sound asleep. _

_Harry sets down his quill and quickly glances at his watch, even from the distance he had been at, Albus can hear the weary sigh escape Harry's lips. A sigh Albus can fully agree on. It had been a very trying day in training. A day that left them in Madam Pomfrey's care till dinner and a very strict set of rules to follow, well, mostly one rule, 'get lots of rest'. In fact Albus had been afraid that the two of them would fall asleep on the way to dinner, he was amused to see they didn't and he, himself, has been having great difficulty remaining awake so he can't even imagine how Harry's remained awake this long. Albus watches in awed curiosity as Harry starts packing his stuff away as quietly as he can and then starts to pack Ms. Granger's stuff as well. _

_Harry then kneels down next to Ms. Granger, his hands on his knees, watching her for a moment as though trying to make a decision. "Hermione," his soft voice whispers hoping not to scare her awake._

_"Hmmm," a slurred mumble reaches his ears and he has to smile at that._

_"I would carry you back to our quarters, but with both of our book bags that won't be easy and I'm afraid I'd drop you," Harry says still whispering soothingly._

_"Mmm, wh't 'me is it," Hermione asks with a yawn._

_"Time for you to go to bed," Harry says with a soft smile as Hermione blinks open her eyes to look at him blurrily._

_"I have rounds tonight," she points out trying to stretch and a yawn. _

_"A date with your bed, is what you have tonight Ms. Granger," Harry says looking kindly into her eyes._

_"Harry," Hermione starts to protest._

_"Don't Harry me," Harry counters. "I'm walking you back to our quarters and then I'm doing the rounds," he pauses and then with another soft smile. "No," he says before Hermione can talk. "This isn't open for discussion; we are not taking this to the committee. You young Lady will sleep in your bed tonight," he drifts off as he lifts his hand to move some of the hair out of her eyes, his hand lingering a moment before dropping softly to her shoulder. "I'm worried about you Hermione," he confesses causing Ms. Granger to blush in surprise and love. "You need your sleep, you've been pushing yourself too hard," he lifts his hand again and this time places it over her mouth as she starts to refute what he has said._

_"I know, N.E.W.T.'s," he says not moving his hand. "They're still a ways away and you won't be doing yourself any favors, by forcing yourself to spend a week in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. For I will not bring you your homework and I will not allow anyone else to either," he says with a teasing smile to let her know he's teasing and yet still worried._

_Dropping his hand he knows he has to let her try, "but Harry you're just as tired, if not more so than I am," she points out softly, almost pleadingly. The love is clear in her voice._

_"Please," Harry begs softly. "I will sleep, but I'm not the one who woke up this morning at two, just because you remembered that you wrote your essay, which isn't due for another two weeks, wrong," he teases her and smiles as she swats his arm in retaliation. "Will you let me do this for you, will you please sleep," Harry asks again._

_Hermione looks him in the eyes for a few breaths before sighing, "You'll walk me back," she asks in resignation, knowing she can never deny him anything._

_"I would be honored," Harry says as he slightly bows his head._

_Hermione smiles, "lead the way then kind sir," she teases as the two of them stand up. Hermione reaches for her bag of books only to have her hand snatched and kept in Harry's grip. _

_"What would my Lord think of me if I were to let such a beautiful Lady as your self carry her own things in his lair," Harry says to the amusement of Hermione and Albus._

_"I will be sure to inform him of your kindness," Hermione says with a soft laugh as the pair make their way passed Albus. He decided he wasn't going to interrupt them this evening and made himself invisible. _

_End Flashback_

Though it seems less likely, at least to talk him into it, Hermione has also taken some of Harry's rounds. To her great displeasure, (and his own) it is usually while Harry is lying unconscious in the hospital wing. He swears his ears are still ringing from the last time Harry landed in the hospital wing, she was shouting explicitly for nearly two hours straight. She was upset, he knew, and worried about the boy she has fallen totally in love with.

It is for this reason, amongst many others, that he is valiantly hiding this evening. He doesn't want to face the wrath of Ms. Hermione Granger. He isn't a stranger to fear, to danger (these last two weeks is evidence enough), but he has yet to find anything as fierce or as protective as Ms. Granger. Though he knows his own self shouting is more than likely worse than anything she could dish out onto him. He had nearly lost Harry. In fact it had been so close he still doesn't want to think about what would have happened had he not searched the young man out.

As this memory, this thought passes through his mind, his heart and stomach clinch and he has an overpowering urge to vomit. He had almost lost his grandson; he was a breath away from losing Harry. A breath way too close to his own personal death, either from heartbreak, or murder (depending if he died before Ms. Granger got a hold of him or not), though he is glad it didn't come to that.

Shifting in his seat he finds his mind returning to just before Christmas break and when they had received news of the impending attack. Hogwarts had to be emptied. So after many hours of discussing (and yelling) about what to do, it was finally agreed that Severus would inform Voldemort Harry was the only person staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. News spread around the school instantly that the school would be closed for the holidays and that no student would be allowed to stay. It was Harry's idea to say this. It was his idea to get everyone safe, to get Hermione, Ron, Lavender, Neville, and Ginny safe from harms way, away from him. He knew it was the time, the final battle, and he didn't want them there to see it or be a part of it.

So Harry told his friends that he had to return to the Dursley's for his safety, refusing their offers kindly, promising it was alright and he would take the Knight Bus after making sure every last student was out of the school. Harry was forced not to be able to say goodbye to his friends, his family, though he did leave letters for them. It was a hard thing for the young man to do, to see them climb into the carriages taking them to the train, and not being able to tell them how he feels about them, not being able to be with them one last moment. So he stood there, in my office, watching the carriages route, until long after they returned from their mission and been put away.

It was shortly after he finally turned away from the window that I learned he wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought him to be. He sat down and talked with me about one Hermione Granger and his feelings about her for over three hours. A long time you say, nah, not when you take into consideration Harry's past. It was an enlightening conversation, one I was ever so proud, pleased, and humbled he would want to share with me.

It was here I learned of his true intentions towards Ms. Granger. Three days latter the staff was still asking me about my smile and the damned twinkling in my eyes which had not receded once in that time. To which I always smiled more, for I knew I was winning the bet. I was about to become very rich (not that I need money or anything).

From there on, it became a waiting game. When was he going to attack, what was he going to do exactly? These questions didn't allow us any rest and due to lack of answers, you would find more than half the staff up at all hours of the night. However, there was one person who seemed overly calm about what was to come. Harry Potter.

I don't know of his reasons, but it was because of this the rest of us didn't give up hope. It was because of a secretive smile in Harry's eyes the rest of us could take a breath in and allow it to be released. To think so much lays on his young shoulders, a burden he should never have had to carry, but carries it willingly and with more strength then the rest of us hold are everyday lives.

It happened at twilight on Christmas eve. A battle was fought, a battle of the wills, a battle to the death, but more to the point the final battle. I have never in all my years (and there are a lot of them) seen such a battle. There were losses, on both sides, but luckily not many of the light were lost. It seemed never ending, it felt as though we would pass out from exhaustion before the enemy would stop coming. The sun could be seen rising through the smoke and ash of the ensuing battle. I looked to my right, then to my left and finally everywhere around me, only to learn I had let it happen. The one thing I promised myself I would not allow, I had allowed. Harry had disappeared; he was nowhere to be seen.

I was consumed by heart wrenching fear, knowing I may never see him again. I tried to find him, though my progress was greatly hampered by the continuing battle. The Battle for Hogwarts, as Harry had called it one night as he was teasing everyone. Though he didn't mean for it to stick, but it did. Though it has changed, it is now and forever will be referred to as 'Harry Potter's Battle for Hogwarts and his family'.

I found Minerva, someone with whom Harry had also become close to over the years. Someone who secretly shares with me her feelings, she feels Harry is her grandson as well. When our eyes met, she knew. She knew he had gone off, that he was indeed alone and she feared, just like I did, we would never see him alive again.

The moment our eyes drifted from each other a blinding flash of light enshrouded Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and as far as the eye could see (or at this point couldn't see). At first the light was as bright as a freshly born sun, then the colors pulsated and changed, white to red, red to green, green to yellow, yellow to blue, and finally the last color reminded everyone of Harry's emerald eyes. The light show ended slowly only to be replaced by a ground moving explosion, an explosion so powerful it rocked the very foundations of Hogwarts and reports say it could be felt on the coast and in London.

We were at a loss, we could not figure out what had happened we were unable to think about it too much as the battle reinserted itself. However, everyone did notice the non-human creatures seemed to make their way away from the battle front, away from Hogwarts as though they were retreating. Making our fight that much better and that must more successful.

Nearly two hours later the last enemy was captured, it was now time to count our losses.

Minerva and I had begun to search for the ever illusive Harry Potter, knowing in our hearts something was wrong. We refused to even mutter our fears, to even allow the thoughts to occur. We split up, soundlessly, knowing the more ground we covered the faster we could find him. I found myself heading towards Hagrid's hut, only to almost get ran over by the Weasley twins, a fear, horror, loss, and absolute sadness in their eyes told me all I needed to know.

Harry is dead.

I felt my world collapse, I didn't care the school had survived. I didn't care we had won against the lesser of the enemy. I didn't even really care if Tom Riddle had lost or not. My world no longer had reason and it would have been much kinder for a Dementor to suck the life out of me then to stand here for one second in a world where Harry Potter doesn't breathe.

I did the only thing I could; I demanded to know where he was.

Only to learn things in this world still had a cruel sense of humor. Harry Potter was found lifeless at the side of the lake where he had saved Sirius Black's life back in his third year. Fighting against the loss of breath, the loss of will, I made my way to the lake. I looked down upon the water; my eyes searching for what I know is there. Tears fall freely as I see the limp mass in nearly the exact same place he had been when he lay beside Sirius that night. It felt (and looked) as though the past four years had been a dream, borrowed time, and he had truly died here in this place on that deadly night so long ago.

With shaky and uncooperative legs I forced myself down there, I had to hold him, I had to be able to say goodbye, to tell him things I will never have the chance to. Dropping unceremoniously to my aged knees I gather the body of Harry to me, hating the coldness, the lifelessness of its movements, and the stiffness in his body caused by rigor mortis. There is no gleam in his unseeing (open) eyes; the emeralds have turned to a dull gray. It is this fact (not only is he not breathing or warm but this fact) alone that tells me he is gone. He is gone forever. He never got the chance to fulfill his dreams, his chance with Ms. Granger.

I close my eyes as I howl my grief to the world around me. He never got the chance for happiness, for love. I will never see his smile, his smirk, the twinkle in his eyes, his stubbornness, his kindness, I will never again get to see him sitting across from me with an amused look as Ms. Granger tries to decipher another of my off the wall answers. I will never get to hear him laugh or to catch him watching Ms. Granger without her knowing.

My life is over.

Then the most amazing thing happened. The figure bundled in my arms took a breath, just one. I looked down upon him and prayed like I have never prayed before. I prayed to every god, deity I could think of. I prayed to Merlin and Arthur. And when I ran out of things to pray to, I started making them up. Another breath, again, just one, I started the prayers again as I cradled the bundle closer to me and began to slowly rock as my prayers continued to flow. Suddenly a cough and then more breathing, my own life returns for the moment.

With a shout I demand assistance.

When none come I realize no one wants to see this young man dead. He is too loved by everyone for them to want to confirm their fears. Picking up a pebble upon the shore, I transfigure it into a Portkey. Clasping Harry more tightly to me and griping the Portkey with all my might, together we disappear from his place of death to a place he knows so well, a place that has always been able to save him (and me) before, the hospital wing, to Madam Pomfrey.

Harry is still breathing, something I am more then pleased to shout out as I seem Minerva with tear streaked cheeks making her way to us. The tears are still flowing, in truth so are mine, as Madam Pomfrey all but kicks us out of the hospital.

The wait was the longest, the worst I had ever had to endure. I know my sentiments were agreed with when Arthur, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and (oddly enough) Percy Weasley made their way to us. Molly had been left back at the Burrow and knows nothing of this. Something I am briefly regretful of, for if Harry dies then the wrath of Molly and Hermione will not be pleasant.

So we wait as the others distract themselves with repairing the castle and the lands surrounding it. A lot of damage was caused during the battle, damage I know I should look to, but I refused to move. Harry needs me there. I was just about to send for Hermione (Harry's request be damned) when the doors to the hospital opened allowing a weary, yet hopeful Poppy out to see us.

Her news had been a breath of fresh air to us. He was unconscious and in a coma but he would live.

Though it seemed he would be left with painful reminders of the battle for the rest of his life. Reminders like the fact he may not be able to walk. As long as he was alive no one cared.

So we were forced to wait again.

At least this time we knew he was still alive.

The news came as I was sitting down at my desk, ignoring the holiday cheer the staff tried to bring to me. I was preparing to sign some of the paperwork (mindless stuff) when Severus comes running into the office saying he's awoke. I couldn't have dreamed of a better New Year's present. Together we ran back to the hospital (ran I couldn't get there fast enough). Rushing into the room I was more then pleased to see Harry sitting up in bed with a gentle smile on his bruised and scratched face, his eyes alight with teasing and mirth.

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard Minerva chuckle at whatever Harry had said. Who would have guessed he had actually been on his deathbed a few short days ago. Who would have thought he was actually dead, only to come back to us. Only to give, us, back our life.

Making my way to his side I was surprised when he looked up at me and smiled wider as he reached out a hand, which I gladly took, and pulled me to him for a hug. My world was complete.

We talked for hours (okay, until Poppy saw fit to kick me and Minerva out) and laughed about many things. Though we never once brought up the fact he had died, it was something Minerva had threatened me about (my death). It wasn't important anyway. Harry is what is important and we were able to see the things we had thought we would never see again. Lily's eyes are alive once again and so is her son.

This brings us to today and the return of the students. And to why I am currently doing my best to avoid any contact with the Head-Girl, who has just barely left my office (very angry) to go to the feast, leaving me to be highly amused by my own actions. The words 'chicken,' 'whipped,' and 'scared-y cat,' cross my mind and all I can do is nod my head in total agreement unconsciously trying to hide my tail (which I don't have) between my legs. Strange things happen when you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

One of the first things you learn is never to cross a woman trying to protect the man she loves, be it her future husband or her very own son (or someone they love as a son). Women are fierce and scary creatures and they will do whatever they deem necessary to remedy the problem. At this moment in time, the 'PROBLEM' is me. I don't look forward to when she and I have to actually have a conversation. Again words like 'how could you,' 'he could have died,' 'if I had known,' and so many others come to mind. Words she has used before in reference to Harry, and though the words are not what he fears, he fears her eyes.

Her eyes tell him of so many things. Her love, her devotion, her acceptance that all she ever will be is Harry's friend, and her pain. Pain in the knowledge she too almost lost him, pain he knows his eyes more then likely still show.

Making my way out of my secret hiding spot I come face to face with Minerva. I actually jump in surprise, something she has never seen me do. She looks behind her at my chamber doors and then returns her glare to me and I know instantly what she wants to know.

Reaching into my robes I remove a letter, "would you be so kind as to hand this to Ms. Granger," I say trying to sound Headmaster-ish. "I just can't seem to locate her," I tease as I see her eyes widen at this.

"Impossible," Minerva whispers as she once again throws me a glare.

"True," I say with amusement. "Then again I'm winning," I say causing her eyebrows to rise in question. "Harry knows," is all I say in answer as I extend my elbow for her to grab. "Shall we, my Lady," I say repeating Harry's well known words.

I see the recognition in her eyes as she rests her hand in the crook of him arm, "we shall my Lord," she says in response a smile spreading across her own face as she repeats Hermione's words.

We walk to the Great Hall knowing our lives are livable and there are so many things left to live for. Um, the future Potter's and Weasley's children come to mind as just an example.


End file.
